


I Don't Hope For Me, I Hope For You

by jakefromstatefarm97



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Pollen, Sickfic, Skye takes care of Ward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22691257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakefromstatefarm97/pseuds/jakefromstatefarm97
Summary: Skye and Ward get captured and injected with a drug that makes them incapable of thinking of anything other than sex.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. The Spark

Skye and I are on a relatively straight forward mission. We have reliable intel that an unknown party is storing an alien artifact in this warehouse, so Skye and I were sent to retrieve it. We are currently crouched behind some trees atop a nearby hill while I analyze the guard's patterns because this will be so much simpler if we can slip in and out without being detected. While I was the first person to argue that Skye was mission-ready, the chances of successfully sneaking in and out of here undetected would be much higher if Skye weren't with me. It's not that I think she's a bad operative,( because she's not, one day I hope Skye will be better than me) but she's reckless due to her eagerness to prove herself to me and the rest of the team, that and she's impatient. As if on cue, she asks, "Haven't you watched the guards long enough already? We've been crouched here for over an hour already." Skye whines. She right, I have been watching the guard's pattern for over an hour. I know I'm being overcautious, partly because I don't want to get caught, but mostly because Skye's safety is my responsibility, and that's not something I take lightly. I take a deep breath then reply, "When the next patrol turns the corner, take off towards the back door. We'll have less than four minutes to pick the lock and get inside before we're spotted." Skye nods, and I'm impressed for a whole thirty seconds at her professionalism. Then a split second before she takes off towards the door as instructed, she whispers, "Race you there!" in my ear before sprinting down the hill joyfully smiling from ear to ear. This isn't the time to be acting childish, but I can't wipe the smile off my face as a sprint after her. 

I beat Skye to the door even though she had a headstart. I pick the lock with practiced ease, and we creep a couple of feet into what looks like an empty warehouse except for a table against the far side of the room. Sitting on the table among a bunch of scattered books is a gold cube with a glowing diamond-shaped gem set into its side. I know instantly that has to be what we've been sent here to collect, and apparently, Skye does too because she walks towards it before I can stop her. Something feels wrong. I have this feeling in my gut that's saying that this was too simple, but I have no choice but to jog to catch up with Skye. When I catch up with Skye, I call, "Hey, hold up. Something feels off about this situation." She stops, and for a second, I'm relieved, but then I hear the sound of a motor starting, and before I can do anything, a force field encloses around Skye and I. And then to make things even worse a canister drops at our feet from the ceiling spraying grey gas. "Hold your breath!" I shout, but I can tell that it's already too late by the way Skye is swaying on her feet. A few seconds later, she collapses onto the floor unconscious, and I follow her into unconsciousness mere seconds later.

I wake with a start breathing heavily as I scan the room. It looks like we're still in the warehouse but in a different room. Skye and I are sitting in chairs with our hands tied behind our back with rope. Skye is slumped in her chair, still unconscious. "Skye! Skye wake up! We need to get out of here!" I whisper, not wanting our captures to hear. She groans but slowly opens her eyes, blinking at me. Skye sits up and takes in the room. "Can you get out of the restraints?" she asks, but before I can answer, the door opens and in walks a man in his fifties dressed in jeans and a sweater with grey hair. That's not what I had expected. I expected an ex-military mercenary who wouldn't hesitate to torture and kill us, but this man looks like a Sunday school teacher.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Sorry about all that awfulness, but I couldn't let you steal my prize. Not until I've studied all the knowledge it has to offer. You see, I'm a professor, and I want to be the first to examine this artifact. And once I've learned all its secrets, I will share all I've learned with the world. Something SHIELD has never done." _The Professor_ , as I name him in my head, looks at his watch. "I'd love to spend all day chatting, but I really must be going. You've both been unconscious for several hours, and people are going to start searching for you soon, and I plan to be long gone by the time they arrive. But don't fret, I have a parting gift for both of you." _The Professor_ pulls two syringes out of his pocket and hands them to two of four goons who pour into the room. Skye and I both struggle, but it's no use. One man holds each of us still while the other injects the needle into our necks. "Don't worry; this won't hurt you. It's a unique drug my scientist came up with. He assured me that its effects are only short term, but will render you unable to pursue me." _The Professor_ scratches his head. "James never actually told me what the drug does, but he does have a twisted sense of humor, so now I'm curious. If we ever meet again, you'll have to tell its effect." _The Professor_ turns to leave then calls over his shoulder, "Farewell until then." The goons follow him out, leaving Skye and I alone in the room.

Almost instantly, I start to feel the effects of the drug. My pulse speeds up as arousal starts burning in my stomach, and my dick gets painfully hard so fast that I feel light-headed. I need to focus because we need to get out of here. "Are you okay?" I ask Skye. She nods, but she's starting to squirm in her seat, so I know she's feeling the effects of the drug too. 

After about five minutes, I finally manage to free myself from my restraint. A whole three minutes longer than it should've taken me due to the fact I was operating on pure instinct because my brain is too busy flashing me pornographic images of Skye and me to be any help. I quickly stand up and begin freeing Skye from her restraints. Once she is free, I lean against the nearest wall panting as I try to focus on something other than the pornographic images in my head and my throbbing cock but to no avail. My thoughts are narrowed down to a single-minded primal _need._

I'm so lost in my head I don't notice Skye has moved from her chair until she grabs me by the collar of my shirt and smashes our lips together in a fierce kiss. I respond instantly, eagerly opening my mouth to allow her in when her tongue probes at my lips. The first slide of Skye's tongue against mine has my blood boiling from lust, and we kiss until my lungs are screaming for air. 

When we finally do break apart, I flip us around, so Skye is pinned to the wall, then I begin sucking on her neck right below her ear, and she gasps. Her gasp quickly turns into a sinful moan as I graze my teeth over the mark I just left. Her moan makes my dick twitch, and I pant, "God... I want you so bad." in her ear, and then to prove my point, I roll my hips against hers, making sure to rub my erection against her core. She whimpers as I pull away as I search her face for confirmation, which she gives freely, begging me, "Take me. Take me, Grant. Please. I'm all yours." 

At her words, I quickly reach for the front of her black jeans, popping the button and pulling the zipper down before dragging the offending article down her legs along with her panties. I slip my hand between her thighs and moan when I discover she's dripping wet already. My moan seems to spur Skye into motion as she undoes my pants and pulls my aching erection out. Her small delicate hand lines me up with her entrance, and we both groan as I slowly enter her. I know immediately that I'm not going to last, but Skye doesn't seem to be doing much better as she meets me thrust for thrust desperately seeking release. Skye comes first, clenching around my shaft, sending me toppling over the edge into the oblivion.

When I finally come back to my senses, Skye is staring at me fully dressed with a worried expression marring her beautiful face. "Ward," she says as if she's said it several times, "Are you okay?" After a pause, I reply, "I'm fine" through gritted teeth as I tuck myself back into my pants and zip them up. The burning primal animal need I had been feeling has dulled slightly, yet bafflingly I'm still hard as a rock despite just experiencing the best orgasm I've had in years. 

Skye walks over to where I'm still leaning against the wall and grabs my wrist before tugging me over to one of the chairs and pushing me down into it. Skye then uses her knee to force my legs apart. "Skye, what...what are you doing?" She gives me a look I can't decipher before she begins undoing my pants. "Skye, I'm fine. We need to get out of here." She gives me that same confusing look again before replying, "Yeah, we do need to get out of here, and I need you thinking straight if that's going to happen. And right now," she pauses as she wraps her hand around my erection. "your dick is doing all the thinking." Before I can protest any further, she runs her tongue along the underside of my dick from the base to the tip, effectively shutting me up. Then she wraps her lips around my dick, taking as much of me into her mouth as she can before slurping her way back up. Skye bobs her head as she hums around my cock. I can feel my orgasm approaching rapidly, so I pull gently on her hair. "Skye, I'm close." To my surprise, instead of pulling off, Skye sucks her cheeks in hard. The velvety smooth feel of the inside of her cheeks sends me over the edge as she continues to suck until she's milked every last drop of cum out of me. Then she leans back on her haunches and licks her lips looking proud of herself.

By the time I've caught my breath, the primal need that had consumed my mind earlier was gone. I quickly tuck myself back into my pants and zip them up before walking over to where Skye is standing with her back to me. I clear my throat to announce my presence, but also because I don't know what to say. Skye turns to face me, "So... are we going to talk about what just happened?" I give her my best S.O. face and say, "We will. Just not right now. Right now, we need to focus on getting out of here and back to the bus." I leave no room for argument as I turn and silently creep out of the room and down the hallway. 

_The Professor_ must've taken all his guards with him when he left because Skye and I didn't encounter a single guard as we headed back to the S.U.V. Upon arriving at the S.U.V. I climb in the driver seat and start the car as Skye climbs in the passenger seat. Once I hear the click of her seatbelt, I pull the car onto the road and start the long drive back to where the bus is parked.

We drive in silence for several minutes before Skye cautiously asks, "Is now a good time to talk about what happened between us?" "No," I growl as I swerve to avoid hitting a car that just stopped in the middle of the road. "Well, too bad," Skye says. "because I want to talk about it. We were captured and injected with a drug that makes you incapable of thinking about anything other than sex. While on the said drug, we had sex, and then I blew you. Where does that leave us now?" I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to say. "It leaves us exactly where we were this morning before we left for this mission. Before things got complicated because that's the way it has to be." I explain quietly. "The way it has to be... or the way you want it to be?" Damn, I was hoping she would miss that little slip-up. "Drop it...please," I beg, and for once, she listens. She turns her back and looks out the passenger side window as rain begins to fall from the sky. I swear I see a tear slip down her cheek, and it breaks my heart, but it's for the best. I'm not a good man. I've made so many mistakes in my life. Mistakes that will haunt me until the day I die and Skye is as pure and bright as the sun shining through the curtains in the morning. She deserved to be with someone equally pure and bright, and that could never be me.


	2. That Lit The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically a sickfic. Ward has a bad reaction to the drug causing him to be sick and Skye takes care of him. If sickfics aren't your thing you can skip to the next chapter, without missing anything major in the plot.

We've been driving in silence for almost an hour when I start to feel queasy. Skye hasn't said a word or even looked at me since I begged her to drop it. I assume she's still upset, so I cautiously ask, "Skye, are you feeling okay?" Turning to face me, Skye gives me a confused look. "Yeah, why? Are you feeling okay?" She responds, looking me over curiously. "I feel fine." I lie. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't experiencing any other symptoms from whatever that drug we were injected with."

We drive in silence for another half hour, during which time my queasiness slowly progresses into nausea. I'm desperately racking my brain for a reason to pull off the highway and rest for a while when I see a sign for a rest stop. Perfect, I think, as I pull in and park the S.U.V. I use the restroom, then buy a ginger ale and sit at a picnic table, sipping it waiting for Skye who's ordering food. A few minutes later, she appears carrying a cheeseburger and french fries covered in a mountain of cheese goo. My stomach churns unpleasantly as the smell of her food as she joins me at the picnic table. By the time she finishes her meal, I'm not feeling any better. So I'm forced to do the unthinkable, as we walk back to the S.U.V. I toss Skye the keys. "You can drive the rest of the way." Skye's face lights up with excitement. "You must be sick 'cause you never let me drive." She jokes. "I'm not sick, just tired," I claim as I climb into the passenger seat and try to get comfortable. Maybe I can sleep off this side effect of the drug.

Shortly after leaving the rest stop, I come to two conclusions. One that I'm not gonna get any sleep. And two, that maybe letting Skye drive wasn't a good idea. Skye's version of driving borders on being suicidal as she seems to think speed limits are optional as she weaves and bobs around slower moving cars and trucks. And Skye's weaving and bobbing maneuvers are wreaking havoc on my already nauseous stomach to the point that if we don't stop soon, I'm going to be sick. I swallow thickly, "Skye, I saw a sign for a motel off the next exit. Let's crash there for the night." Skye scoffs, "Why? We're almost there. It's only two and a half more hours 'til we're back at the bus, and I'm not even tired." "Skye," I plead, accidentally letting my desperation bleed into my voice. "Alright," she relents as she pulls off the highway and into the parking lot of the roadside motel.

I check us into the motel under aliases, then follow Skye silently to our room. I drop my bag by the door and flop down on my back on the bed closest to the door. I lay there with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths, trying to calm my stomach. I open my eyes to Skye, standing over me a minute later. "Are you sure you're okay? You look awfully pale, and I could've sworn you looked a little green in the car... as a matter of fact, you still look a little green."

I roll my eyes as I sit up to look at her, which turns out to be a terrible idea as a wave of nausea washes over me, and vomit rises in my throat. I dart off the bed into the bathroom just in time to fall to my knee and heave violently into the toilet. In my rush to make it to the toilet in time, I didn't close the door, and Skye follows me into the bathroom. "Go away, Skye." I pant in between heaves. She doesn't listen. Instead, she sits on the side of the tub and says, "You should've told me you weren't feeling well," as she begins rubbing my back and whispering sweet nothings while I retch until nothing is left in my stomach and I start dry heaving. When at last I stop dry heaving Skye asks, "Are you done, or are you gonna throw up some more?" "I don't know," I reply miserably. Skye looks me over for a second before saying, "Stay here. I'm gonna run to the gas station next store and pick up some medicine." I open my mouth to tell her not to bother, but no words come out as I gag and lean over the toilet as stomach acid burns its way up my throat.

I don't know how long Skye was gone, but when she gets back, I'm spitting into the toilet trying to get that disgusting taste out of my mouth after having just heaved up more stomach acid. Skye enters the bathroom where I'm still sitting in front of the toilet with two bags and starts unloading them on the sink. "So I called Simmons and told her about how we got drugged and how you're currently puking your guts out while I'm fine. She thinks you're having a reaction to the drug. The bad news is she said there isn't much we can do to ease your nausea. She's scared that mixing whatever we were injected with typical antinausea medication could have an even worse side effect, but she did say that you could take Pepto-Bismol. And she was adamant that you drink. Even if it's just gonna come back up, you have to drink." Skye then pulled out of the bags several bottles of Gatorade, a bottle of mouthwash, pills of Pepto-Bismol, and a bucket. Skye hands me the mouthwash, and I accept it gratefully. I rinse my mouth and then stand up shakily. Skye wraps her arm around my waist and leads me back to bed. Then she goes back to the bathroom and retrieves the bucket, a Gatorade, and the peto-bismol. She places the bucket on the nightstand by my head and hands me the Gatorade and the Pepto-Bismol. I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow it with a small sip of the Gatorade, knowing it's pointless to argue with Skye about this. Satisfied Skye says, "Try to rest" as she places a kiss on my forehead and tucks me in.

I fall into a restless sleep, and I'm woken a short time later by Skye on Simmon's orders. Skye hands me the Gatorade and tells me to take a few sips. After taking a few cautious sips, she tucks me back in, and I return to my restless slumber. Skye and I repeat this process every 45 minutes.

At about 5:30 in the morning, I wake up and sit up, and for a few seconds, I don't know what woke me. Then my stomach rolls. "Are you okay?" Skye asks. I open my mouth to reply, but instead of words, a sickly burp comes out. Skye's by my side in seconds, holding the bucket up to my face as the first wave of vomit pours from my mouth. "It's okay. You're okay," she whispers as the hand that's not holding the bucket strokes my hair gently in an attempt to soothe me. I gag as another wave of vomit splatters into the bucket. Skye continues to stroke my hair until I'm finally done, then she disappears into the bathroom to clean out the bucket as I collapse back on to the bed. I feel guilty that Skye is the one cleaning the bucket, but I'm too weak to stand, and I don't think I could stomach the sight of my own vomit right now, even though I know it's only Gatorade and stomach acid.

A few minutes later, Skye returns the bucket to my nightstand and presses the back of her hand to my forehead. "You're not running a fever. Are you feeling any better? I mean, you're supposed to feel better after you throw up, right?" I shrug, not trusting my stomach enough to shake my head. "Not really. I'm still extremely nauseous, I just don't have anything left in my stomach to bring up. Not even stomach acid." I shiver, and Skye notices. She wordlessly goes over to her bed and pulls the blanket off and begins spreading it on my bed. "No, Skye. Don't, I'm fine. I swear." "Shh," she says before climbing into bed next to me. She wraps her arms around me, carefully avoiding touching my stomach, and pulls me, so I'm leaning against her chest. The combination of the extra blanket and Skye's body heat lull me to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grant Douglas Ward is by far my favorite character in aos, and it still kills me that he didn't get a happy ending with Skye, because they are perfect for each other (Chloe and Brett are also perfect for each other). I also love the idea of Skye taking care of Ward because he deserves to be taken care of after the shitty life he's had.


	3. That Set The Whole World On Fire

I wake up to the sound of a door opening and closing as Skye enters the motel room. She notices I'm awake and says, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you... Are you feeling any better? " "I'm feeling better, but my stomach still feels... off? I don't know how to really describe it." I reply. "That's good news." Skye chirps as she walks into the bathroom and retrieves a Gatorade before handing it to me and saying, "Drink up because you must be dehydrated." I gratefully accept the Gatorade suddenly extremely thirsty and chug the whole bottle before turning to place it on the nightstand. When I turn back to face Skye, she's staring at me as if I have three heads. "What?" I ask her. "Are you sure it was a good idea to chug that whole Gatorade? Five hours ago, you couldn't keep down more than a few ounces of Gatorade." She asks. "I'm fine, I promise. I just needed to sleep off the drug." I reply. "We should hit the road. I've held us up enough already." Skye nods and begins to pack her laptop back into her go-bag.

Fifteen minutes later, Skye and I are checked out of the motel and loading our bags into the S.U.V. While we were packing, Skye had insisted that she drive, claiming that I still look pale and that I need more rest. I climb in the passenger seat as Skye slams the trunk closed. As she jumps in the driver's seat, I notice she's holding the bucket, which she set on the floor by my feet and says, "Just in case." 

We drive for a little over an hour when Skye says, "I'm hungry. Do you think you can stomach eating?" I roll my eyes, "Of course I can eat, Skye, I told you. I'm fine, hungry even." Skye seems pleased with my response and pulls off the next exits and follows signs to a diner.

At the diner, Skye and I are lead to a table by the window by an overly perky middle-aged woman who takes our drink orders before disappearing. I'm glancing over the menu, trying to decide if I want a cheeseburger or pancakes when Skye says, "Order toast." I look at her, confused, "Why?" She sighs, "It's easy on your stomach. You're supposed to ease your way back into eating things like eggs and bacon, or whatever you were planning on ordering. Plus, toast tastes more or less the same coming up as it does going down. Just trust me, please." Something about the way she said, 'trust me.' melts something within, and when the waitress comes back, I order four slices of whole-wheat toast while Skye orders pancakes covered in sprinkles and whipped cream.When our food arrives, I stare longly at Skye's pancakes as I silently butter my toast. We eat in comfortable silence before paying and climbing back into the S.U.V. 

We drive for another hour on the highway before exiting onto a smaller, poorly maintained road that seems to wind through the mountains. After several sharp turns in quick succession, I'm starting to feel nauseous again, and the bumpiness of the road isn't helping. I glance at my watch, trying to judge how much longer until we reach the bus. I estimate that we are less than half an hour away. I tell myself to relax and to ignore the way that the toast and Gatorade are currently sloshing angrily around my stomach. Skye seems to sense my growing distress as she asks, "Are you okay over there? You're looking kinda green around the gills again." "I'm fine." I grind out, "Just a little nauseous, that's all." Skye worriedly looks over at me, "Do you want me to pull over?" she asks. I open my mouth to say no, but no words come out as I gag. Skye seems to take this as a yes and pulls over onto the shoulder of the road.

I stumble out of the S.U.V. and take a deep breath resisting the urge to gag again. Sky comes over and places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. "Don't fight it." she says, "If you feel like you have to be sick, let yourself be sick." The urge to gag washes over me again, but this time it's too strong to fight as vomit raises in my throat. I double over as my breakfast splatters on the pavement in chunks at my feet. I barely hear Skye say, "Let it all out, you'll feel better." as I retch again, this time bringing up a gush of Gatorade. After several more heaves, I straighten, reasonably sure that I'm not going to throw up again. Skye hands me some napkins and a water bottle. I wipe my mouth with the napkin before swirling water in my mouth and spitting. I glare down at the puddle of vomit as if it is my worst enemy before slowly climbing back into the S.U.V.

When we arrive back at the bus, the team is waiting for us. There's a chorus of "How are you feeling?" and "Are you feeling better?". "I'm fine," I insist as I walk towards the operation center of the bus, but Skye pipes up and says, "He's lying. He threw up on the side of the road twenty minutes ago." Apparently, that was all Coulson needed to hear, "The debrief can wait. Ward let Simmons check you over then go lay down. That's an order." "Yes, sir," I reply before silently following Simmons down to the lab. 

Simmons takes a blood sample then checks my vitals. "You're dehydrated. I'm going to give you an I.V. of saline, and then you're going to go lay down." I know for experience there is no point in arguing with Simmons when she's in full doctor mode, so I just hold out my arm for her to insert the I.V. When the I.V. is finished, I head back to my room. I usually don't allow myself to take naps, even when I'm sick, but I feel really wiped out, so I curl into my bed, and I'm asleep in seconds.

I wake up several hours later, feeling much better. I get up and stretch, then go in search of Skye. I find Skye in her room. I knock at her slightly ajar door. "Come in," she calls. I enter as she closes her laptop and looks at me expectantly. I rub the back of my head as I say, "Thanks for ... you know...taking care of me... You didn't have to do that." Skye scoffs, "Of course I did. What kind of monster would I be if I just let you suffer by yourself? I mean, that's what friends are for, right?" There's a slight pause, "We are friends, right?" "Of course we're friends," I assure her. "You mean the world the world to me, Skye," I add before I can stop myself. 

The room is silent for a moment as my words wash over Skye. Then she quietly asks, "I mean the world to you?". Skye seems to hesitate before standing up and crossing the room to stand in front of me. Then she says, "Show me. Show me I mean the world to you, 'cause I swear, back in that warehouse when we were under the influence of that drug, there was more than pure animalistic lust in your eyes."

Skye's words sound like a challenge, and I've never been good at resisting a challenge. I know I should resist. I should list all the reasons why we can't take this next step, but the only reason I can think of is that some stupid rule says we can't. Maybe Skye is wearing off on me, but right now, I don't give a damn about some idiotic regulation that agents break all the time. I take a deep breath, then gently place my hand on Skye's cheek and pull her in for a kiss. The first brush of her lips against mine sends a jolt of electricity throughout my whole body. I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opens her mouth, allowing me in. The sensation of our tongues fighting for dominance feels incredible, and Skye seems to agree as she lets out a quiet moan. I'd be content to keep kissing like this forever, but Skye seems to have different plans. She snakes a hand between us and cups the growing bulge in my pants, and I can't hold back the moan that slips through my lips. Her hands then travel to the button of my pants, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to still her hands. I take a step back, panting as hurt washes over Skye's beautiful face.

I cup Skye's face gently, guiding her eyes to mine. "I want you, Skye. I want you so bad, but I want to do this right. You deserve flowers and dinner at a nice restaurant. I have to do this right because you mean so much more to me than a good lay. You told me to show you that you mean the world to me. This is me showing you." I press a kiss to the center of her forehead, then to the apple of each of her cheeks before placing a sweet kiss on her lips. "I promise the next chance I get, I'm going to take you out on a proper date, and then we'll see what happens after that." I place one last loving kiss on Skye's lips before I head for the door. In the doorway, I stop and take one last look before saying, "Goodnight, Skye. I'll see you in the morning."

I walk back to my room I hoping I won't run into anyone because I can't seem to wipe this goofy grin off my face. When I get back to my room, I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I feel too giddy with happiness to sleep, so I start plotting how to convince Coulson to give the team a night off so I can take Skye out on a proper date. I eventually fall asleep and dream of hundreds of different ways I can show Skye that she means the world to me. 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be at least one more chapter, but I don't know when I'll get around to writing it and posting it. Hopefully it will be soon though. Thanks for reading and tell me what you think in the comments :)


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